Some Thoughts on Scale

8/16/2017

This morning, Jane and I said our goodbyes and finally got back on the road. We had had a fun little detour in Modesto, but it was time to head on and see some more of the world. The next stop: Kings Canyon National Park!

Kings Canyon is, as far as I can tell, almost completely overshadowed by its big brother Yosemite to the north. Consequently, it is little heard-of and even less traveled, which is just perfect as far as I'm concerned. 

The park was originally created to preserve two regions: giant Sequoia groves, similar to those found in Sequoia National Park to the south, and Kings Canyon, the second-deepest canyon in the United States (second only to the Grand Canyon). It is one of the more wild national parks, forsaking bustling tourism for wilderness conservation. So while hiking trails criss-cross this park fairly handily, there’s a shortage of drivable roads. But that’s okay, because the roads that ARE here are really, really worth driving.

Holy cow, what a view.

Jane and I wound our way up into the mountains, heading to the scenic drive on the north side of the park. The Kings Canyon Scenic Byway climbs up through a rocky forest fairly quickly before spitting you out at the top of a pass, abruptly presenting you with sweeping spectacular views of a very Yosemite-like landscape. Sharp, rocky mountains march off into the distance as far as the eye can see, eventually blending into one dappled mass of rock and trees. Puffy clouds scud by overhead, seemingly buoyed upwards by winds coming over the ridges. A ribbon of asphalt wends its way around the nearby ridges, periodically disappearing and then reappearing a few hills over.

Also, there's a sign for ice cream. But there isn't any ice cream. The worst.

Most notable, though, is the feature for which this park is named: Kings Canyon. Rather than the wide, gently sloped, glacially carved valleys of Yosemite, the landscape here is cut by a dramatic slash in the mountains where first glaciers and then the Kings River have cut down through thousands of feet of rock with seeming laser precision. The scenic byway descends into this abyss, eventually reaching the bottom of the canyon where the river continues its eternal erosion. As you might expect, this road is full of wonderful twists and turns – just perfect for Jane’s upgraded handling.

We cruised along the blacktop, letting the road come up to meet us in the corners, stopping occasionally at turnouts just to admire the expansive view. But as we dropped down into the canyon, the road narrowed substantially even as the twists and turns grew sharper and steeper, and I found myself really having to pay attention. The Kings Canyon Scenic Byway is a deadly road, for some. High cliffs bordering one side of the road and steep drop-offs bordering the other side by a narrow margin is a recipe for disaster for those who might not take the road seriously, especially if you’re not watching your speed on the steep downhill. But a good manual transmission takes care of all of the brakework, so we had a nice easy trip down, eventually coming out on the flat bottom of the canyon next to the river.

Where the canyon walls loom close, one has a distinct impression of being swallowed whole by the earth. But it’s not until you’re at the bottom that you’re really reminded how small you are. We, as human beings, spend a lot of time thinking that we’re giants in control of the world. But it’s hard to think that when you’re looking up at thousands of feet of rock in Kings Canyon. It has a primeval feel to it, a kind of weightiness that reminds you that you are very small in the grand scheme of things, just a fleeting footstep on the flanks of an ancient giant. Even Jane – the car that always appears so much larger than life – looked minuscule.

Perspective is a wonderful thing.

Having been suitably overawed by the scale of my environment, I then hiked along the river a ways, admiring the lush foliage in marshy flats and the seclusion of the forest bordering the water.

Sometimes you just really have to take a picture of a yellow jacket nest.  Brave or stupid? I've concluded that you're brave up until you get stung, and then you're just stupid.

Someone had the right idea.

Something about this rock intrigued me.

 I found some ferns that totally fascinated me – the flat round dots that normally cover the bottom of the leaves were instead replaced by thick fuzzy lines bursting with spores. Seen through the right light, the leaves virtually glowed from within. I know it’s a silly thing to fixate on, but overwhelmed as I was by the vastness of the canyon, I was interested in looking for beauty in the small details.

Afternoon drew on and clouds started to blanket the sky, so I drove back along the byway, stopping at little turnouts to see waterfalls and interesting rapids.

Jane gained some new admirers.

This guy was remarkably easy to sneak up on.

We settled in for the night at our comfortable campsite near the General Grant Sequoia Grove. I’ve gotten pretty good at picking campsites – a good site is important for a good night’s rest, you know. I always look for nice shady sites that are convenient to get a vintage car in and out of (sometimes a tall order at some campgrounds), and close to water and bathrooms if possible. This particular site was all of these things, but as night fell I found that it had just one more thing that made it perfect: a spectacular view of the Milky Way through a gap in the trees. I quickly decided to use the site as my base of operations for the next few days, extra driving be damned. It’s not like a few extra miles will kill us at this point anyways. Fortunately, Sequoia National Park is just south of Kings Canyon – the two are frequently treated as “sister parks” – so I can reasonably check out both.

Tomorrow, I’ll go see some of the largest and most famous Sequoia tree groves in the nation. Can’t wait! Until then… Kelly signing out!